Trust sweater weather
for steamy mug of tea
and warm conversation.
Affecting music
even with no lyrics, moves
the coldest of hearts.
Winter Olympics,
please bring earnest empathy
nation-to-nation.
Mittens are better
for keeping fingers warm,
for they get to cuddle.
Each winter, our birds
follow suet meals with a
preheated bird bath.
(c) Marie Elena Good 2026
Our Christmas Tree, 2024
My December Song, with Apologies to Sammy Cahn
Though the weather outside is frightful,
from my window, it’s delightful.
While sipping my steaming tea,
turn the thermostat up one degree.
While my husband clears off our driveway
on this high of only 5 day,
my kitchen’s warm sugar scent
made me weak – I confess! I repent!
When he finally comes inside,
gets a whiff of the goodies I made,
sees the guilt that I just can’t hide –
think he’d believe they’re mislaid?
Oh the weather outside’s now icing,
and our flannels’ so enticing.
Keith joins me for one last tea;
turns the thermostat down one degree.
While we gaze at our Christmas tree,
we hear winds howling outside our door.
Nestling close while we sip Chablis,
I feel the draft on our floor.
Though the temperature’s turning bitter,
here inside, the tree’s a-glitter,
and the fireplace is aglow.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Turns the thermostat up …
© Marie Elena Good 2024
Seated in my comfortable chair
across from my adorned and
glowing Christmas tree,
there is a sweet hush to my home.
Most of my shopping is done.
I’m planning a small Christmas Eve
gathering with family I was born into,
and new-found loves who may
not speak English well,
but speak love fluently.
Yesterday morning,
sweet, colorful cookies were
trayed and displayed. Many came
to make purchases for this season’s
celebrations. The money,
not enough to cover the costs
of war. The sweet aromas,
not enough to cover the stench
of death in the nostrils of those
who were able to escape, let alone
waft to where unwarranted revulsion
continues to slaughter and steal.
I relax, plan, shop, decorate,
and enjoy these sweet friends
I never would have known,
if not for their unfathomable plight.
And I beg forgiveness
for too easily shoving aside
the tempest that wells within –
for my inability to calm the one they live with
every waking moment.
© Marie Elena Good, 2023
#glorytoUkraine
It has been four years
since we nearly lost Izzy,
our grandbaby girl.
It has been two years
since my mother passed on to
the heavenly realm.
Now my son-in-law’s
mother is hospitalized,
fighting for her life.
The second week of
the second month of each year
feels like a movie –
a film I am in,
but choose to view from a safe
distance. Unseated.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Scarlet graces black
bough and ground below. Silent
snow spills scant and slow.
Once butter-winged finch
faded, flutters. Winter cinched.
Wonder underway.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
Photo by Keith R. Good
Winter streams give life,
Yet how icy are the veins
Through which blood runs cold.
Photo by Keith R. Good
Brief thaw, pre-spring
Sparrows share what little’s there
Charity takes wing
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
Icy winds gather
Treasures by dumpster
Most will miss
pictured words 